


The Hanoi Bank Job, and Other Misadventures

by Mungo_of_Maundery



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Early Days, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snapshots, Tags May Change, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26875588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mungo_of_Maundery/pseuds/Mungo_of_Maundery
Summary: A series of snapshots about the A-Team that we know and love, and how their friendship grew into what we see in the show.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

B.A. wishes Peck would just ask for things, but then maybe he’s tried that and maybe it didn’t work, so he’s learned to employ other methods, ones that are more effective.

Post arrives when they’re at mess, and B.A. has cookies from home. He would share them, wants to share them, _plans_ to share them, with Peck. But Face doesn’t wait, and before B.A. knows what’s happening, Peck is saying, “You know, I always wondered what it’d be like to have someone – a parent – a mother – like that. Someone to look after you, send you parcels – stuff like that.” He sighs sadly. “But I guess some of us are just destined to go through life alone, without guidance, or love, don’t you agree?”

“Or cookies,” Murdock mutters from behind his book. Face scowls at him, but Murdock only raises his eyebrows and turns the page with an air of indifference.

Face looks back to B.A., all soft sadness again. “May I?” he says, reaching for cookies.

B.A. shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Thanks,” Face says. “Y’know, B.A., sometimes you almost make me feel cared for.”

Murdock hisses as Face walks away satisfied. B.A. still feels nonplussed. Peck’s onslaughts always leave him feeling like he’s been had, somehow.

Murdock wanders over and sits down opposite B.A.. “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that, you know,” he says mildly, reaching into the box and taking a cookie. “It’s making him insufferable.”

B.A. shrugs again. “Do you think he’s really an orphan?”

“Sure,” says Murdock, already on his third cookie. “But he’s stealing from you.” He shoves two more cookies into his pockets, packs up his tray and walks off, reaching across to pat B.A. on the shoulder as he does so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help pls

“You okay there, flyboy?”

Murdock looks over at Welsh. “Sure, why?”

Welsh doesn’t answer, just stares for a moment before going to pick up the crate from behind the chopper. There’s something tickling the side of Murdock’s nose. He brushes it away and realises as he does so that he’s crying. “Oh, God…” Oh shit. How embarrassing. 

He scrubs his face with his hands, pressing his finger and thumb into his eye sockets, but tears keep on leaking out of them. It’s dumb to cry, and it’s even dumber to not know why he’s doing it. He can hear Welsh’s footsteps behind him and drops his arms quickly, forcing himself to smile. It makes it worse; he hiccups and tries to cover it with a laugh and another tear seeps its way down his cheek. Welsh stares even more. 

“Hey,” Welsh says, putting the box down. “Hey, you sure you’re okay?”

Murdock holds the smile and doesn’t reply, just waiting for Welsh to go away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes closer and pats Murdock on the shoulder. “I know, man.”

“I don’t,” says Murdock, and for a man visibly leaking at the eyeballs his voice is perfectly steady. “I don’t know. I’m fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kind of a joke but also i can really see face being the kind of person who does really bizarre things in secret to calm himself down so i guess it's . crack-played-straight.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Face stands up so fast he spills soup on B.A., and B.A. snarls and grabs at him, but Face spins so that his fist catches at air, and he gets away safely. He goes to the back of the supply shed – usually a safe spot – and lights a cigarette. Smoking it calms him for about thirty seconds, and then the dreaded icy friction of anxiety nerves its way up his spine again. He drops the cigarette in frustration and paces a few times.

After a minute, he drops to a squatting position and scoops up some dirt from the ground and shoves it in his mouth in one quick, impulsive move, and chews it furiously. It tastes horrible, it tastes – well, it tastes like dirt. The shock calms him almost instantly and he spits it back out again and tries not to gag.

“One of us, I see!” says a voice from nearby, and Face leaps to his feet, ready to fight, only to see that damned pilot, Murdock. He wonders if he should salute, but his hands are still filthy. Then he sees that Murdock’s are, too.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “One of who?”

Murdock locks eyes with him, kneels down, and picks up a handful of dirt. Without breaking eye contact for a moment, he puts it in his mouth. Face recoils slightly and feels himself grimace, especially when Murdock makes no move to spit it out.

“You swallow that?” Face asks him.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why?”

“Why are you behind the supply shed, Lieutenant?”

“I’m – I’m smoking.” Face indicates the stubbed-out cigarette lying about a foot away.

“Sure, you are. One of us,” Murdock says, and smiles at Face pleasantly as he disappears around the corner.

What a weird guy.


End file.
